What happens is not as important as how you react to what happens.

The sun is shining and I’m feeling GOOD! (In SPITE of the fact that I have a MOUNTAIN of things that absolutely MUST be accomplished during this day.) Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina in the morning! Come on over and sit a spell at the Nuthouse and take a morning coffee break!



There seems to be a tendency for folks to take for granted, the subtle blessings of their everyday lives. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I’ve found it amazing that other folk would find my life to be of enough interest that they would visit me on any sort of regular basis. Even more amazing is the comments often left, particularly regarding our quaint little wannabee farm here on the corner of a community that’s little known, even among those in our area, much less folks from somewhere else altogether.

The windows on the lower side of our unusually long house, overlook our small pasture, bordered by the creek where the beavers live, and where our fox makes her home (I don’t know why I call it a ‘her’ – she just LOOKS like a her). There are many trees near and far, window feeders, horses, fox, beaver, groundhogs, ferrel cats, falling trees and fences. There is much to see, so I find myself glancing out the windows often – sometimes to see whatever may be out there to see (another photo opp?!), sometimes just to find comfort in seeing my mares grazing contentedly, sometimes just to look at the blue sky and green trees and just enjoy the moment’s view. And though I appreciate it immensely, when I take a photo of it, the photo gives me a bit of an opportunity to see it through someone else’s eyes – someone not so ‘familiar’ with it all as we are – and then I think, “WOW! That really IS a gorgeous view!”

There’s a feeling of quietness here, though in reality, it’s anything BUT quiet. The breeze is gentle and only slightly warm…you can hear it rustling through the trees…and every now and then, there’s the faint sound of wind chimes from the pecan tree on the other side of the house (is it the breeze or the squirrel?). There’s the familiar flutter of horses’ nostrils as they blow out dust, seeds and debris collected from contented grazing.



There’s a dog barking in the distance…some neighbor must be walking up the road…and before long, my dog’s are barking – at what, they know not – and then the dogs next door, and then the dogs next door to them. The canine chorus continues up this long road till it disappears in the distance, as each dog gets bored with barking at nothing. There’s the faint fragrance of flowering trees and shrubs, in a peculiar but oh so pleasant mixture of grasses, horse manure, hay and fresh, country air.



Birds are singing all around – what song, which bird, none can tell…there are too many to discern! There’s a little Carolina Wren busily constructing a nest in the kitchen window for her soon-to-be family. You hear some tiny finches squabbling at the window feeder a couple of windows up. On the ground below, doves poke around for dropped seeds (they’re too fat and heavy for the hanging feeders) while cooing at one another.



A bumble bee appears out of nowhere and hovers in front of you for a moment…then determines you’re not so interesting, and zips off into infinity. Oh, and there’s our famous squirrel in the maple tree, flicking his bushy tail and chattering some sort of squirrel profanity at me no doubt.



I tried to kill myself twice many years ago. It was a place and a time that seems much like an altogether different lifetime now. In fact, I feel like a very different PERSON now. Funny – I lived in a place very similar to this one then, surrounded by much of the very same beauty – but I could not see it for the darkness that clouded my soul. But it was there.

Today, I love life with a passion, and hate death with almost an equal passion. Though I suppose death has its own relevant purpose in the whole scheme of things, I much prefer LIFE, movement, consciousness – the beauty of just experiencing what is and watching other living things experience the uniqueness of simply BEING. I shudder to think I ever considered leaving this place – so much beauty I’d have never seen – so much joy I’d have never known – so much love I’d never given, nor been given.



It is wonderful to be a ‘survivor’ in life. I wish I could pass out this feeling of wonder and contentment and absolute bliss to everyone who reads this, and even to everyone who doesn’t. Maybe I succeeded for a few of you, if only for a moment…